


Of Boys and Beans

by Okaasan59



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Chibi, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-09-06
Updated: 2012-09-06
Packaged: 2017-11-13 16:05:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,257
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/505291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Okaasan59/pseuds/Okaasan59
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A wealthy family's gardener has an unexpected encounter with a small child.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Boys and Beans

The colony of L4 had the best sunlight filters, creating the perfect environment for plant growth. Lush parks and estates were common and the very rich could afford elaborate gardens surrounding their mansions. Some of the richest could even afford their own orchards and vegetable gardens—a luxury that was little understood by those on Earth where such things were often owned and tended by the poorest of the population.

The newest employee of one such estate was enjoying the warmth on the back of his hands as he tended to the fledgling plants in the rich soil. The solitude of this job suited him. The unhurried pace, the quiet, the lush results of his labor—all these things were balm to his soul—and the soil gave back its riches in appreciation.

He glanced up as he heard an unfamiliar sound, the row of nearby hedges and small fruit trees obscured his view of the kitchen side of the house and whatever might be causing that sound. There was a flash of something between the bushes and the gardener identified the sound as the slap of a child's bare feet on warm flagstones. The child in question careened around the shrubs and stopped dead in his tracks at the sight of the gardener. He was a scruffy bit, wearing only a pair of shorts and a cotton shirt that may have been white at one time but now bore evidence of the owner's enjoyment of the recently ripened strawberries in the fruit patch. Straight blond hair hung in his face and over eyes that were bright and curious. The gardener groaned mentally. The last thing he wanted was to spend time with the bored and bothersome progeny of the kitchen help.

"What are you doing?" Sure enough, the child crept closer, determined to interrupt his day.

"Planting beans." Maybe a terse reply would discourage the ragamuffin.

"I like beans. I like other veggables too, but mostly beans. 'Specially when Cook lets me snap 'em. Can I plant some?"

"Vegetables," the gardener corrected then shook his head. "It's delicate work. You better stick to snapping them after they're picked."

"Okay." The boy was unfazed. "What's your name?" He was busy climbing the most accessible branches of a nearby fruit tree with little care to his own safety. His scrawny limbs seemed barely able to pull himself up, but his hands and feet were sure and it was obvious he'd done this many times.

"Nelson," said the gardener after he was sure the boy wasn't about to fall.

"Hey, Nelson, look what I can do." The boy had found a branch that was just the right size to hook his knees over. He let his upper body fall and he hung upside down, dirty shirt sliding to reveal a pale tummy, his hair and hands reaching for the ground.

"Don't fall," Nelson felt obligated to say in the way that adults always chide.

"I won't fall," the boy stated in the matter-of-fact way that all children do when they are of the age to assume that only the things they intend to happen, in fact, will.

But in this case the boy seemed more than capable and soon he'd hauled himself upright and sat swinging his legs as he watched the man below him.

"Where did you learn how to plant beans?"

"On Earth."

"Know what they got on Earth?"

"What?" Nelson sighed.

"Sharks." The boy nodded matter-of-factly. "I saw a show. And you know what?"

"What?" Nelson barely avoided rolling his eyes.

"Sharks have so many teeths that when one falls out there's always another one there." Now the boy had gripped an upper branch and was swinging back and forth. "I'm glad I'm not a shark. Know why?"

This time Nelson did roll his eyes. "Why?"

"Because I wouldn't want my teeth to fall out all the time. I already have a loose one. Wanna see it?"

"No, thank you."

"Did you ever see a shark on Earth, Nelson?"

"No."

The boy's brows were scrunched in thought. "I think sharks might live in France. Did you live in France?"

Nelson snorted. "No, I lived in a place called Missouri."

"Missouri," the boy repeated slowly as he tried out the word. Then he let go of the branch and landed lightly on his feet in the soft dirt.

"Mind your feet, boy. Don't be trampling my seedlings."

"I won't. I'm always careful. I'm five now, you know." The boy was squatting, studying a snail's slow progress on a nearby flagstone. "My father goes to France sometimes. Last time he brought me a violin. It hurts my fingers when I try to play it, though, so I don't think I'll do it anymore."

Nelson stopped with a seedling in his hand and squinted at the boy. "What about your Mom?"

"Father says she's in Paradise." He'd picked up a stick and was encouraging the snail to continue its journey on the stick. "I hope that's not near France 'cause I don't think she'd like sharks."

Nelson had a sneaking suspicion he wasn't being entertained by a child of the kitchen staff.

"Don't let that snail get near my bean plants. Snails eat the leaves."

"Oh. What should I do with him?"

Nelson didn't think that squashing the thing—what he'd have done himself—would appeal to the child. "Put it under the hedges."

"Okay!" The boy skipped off with his stick and its tiny traveler. He was back again soon.

"What are you doing now?"

"This is going to be the support for the trellis. When the beans get bigger they need something to grow on."

"Will there be lots of beans?" The boy shaded his eyes with a grubby hand as he looked down the row.

"I hope so," Nelson said and his lip quirked. "And even if there aren't, boys your age are always full of beans."

The boy turned huge blue eyes on him and giggled. "But I didn't eat any beans today!"

"Full of beans means you're full of energy," Nelson explained.

"Oh. Nana always says I shouldn't eat any sugar 'cause she can't keep up with me."

The gardener nodded. "Sounds like a wise woman."

Just then they heard the sound of the kitchen door opening behind the hedges. Nelson had to do a double take as the boy hunched next to him in the soil, both hands clasped over his mouth as if to make sure no incriminating sounds gave away his hiding place.

"Master Winner!" came the voice of the Cook. "Quatre! It's time for lunch!"

Huge blue eyes appealed to Nelson over the grubby hands. He removed the hands just long enough to explain in a conspiratorial whisper, "This morning she made me eat oatmeal." Then the hands were clasped over his mouth again.

Nelson was beginning to wonder if aiding and abetting the Winner heir in his game of hide and seek could technically be considered kidnapping when the voice of the cook rang out again. "Quatre! I made your favorite apple pie for dessert."

The boy gasped and jumped up. "I gotta go," he said as he started to race towards the house. After a few seconds he stopped and ran back, a huge contagious smile on his face. "Bye!" said simply before turning and running back towards the house.

"Bye."

It was several minutes before Nelson realized he'd been smiling at his bean plants. And for some reason, he was especially looking forward to this year's harvest.


End file.
